Like most things, our personality traits and interests do not develop in isolation. They are shaped, sometimes subtly, sometimes forcefully, by the culture around us. Today, that culture is largely mediated through social media. Platforms that once promised connection and self-expression now also function as trend incubators, rapidly circulating archetypes of who we should be. Some of these trends promote empowerment and awareness. Others, however, risk narrowing our understanding of what strength truly looks like.
In recent years, a new cult of personality has emerged around the idea of “standing on business” a brash, unapologetic confidence often captured in the figure of the “bad b*tch”.Characterised by firm boundaries, outspoken values, and an unwaveringly confident persona, this archetype is frequently upheld as the ideal model of strong femininity. She defends herself. She does not tolerate disrespect. She knows her worth.
On the surface, these attributes carry undeniably positive connotations. Assertiveness, self-respect, and clear boundaries are vital qualities, particularly for women who have historically been socialised into silence or self-sacrifice. Yet, like anything that becomes over-consumed and over-idealised, the persona can distort. Confidence hardens into overbearing dominance. Self-assurance slides into selfishness. Strength risks becoming synonymous with harshness.
This is not the only archetype Western media has offered us. The “bad b*tch” has predecessors. Millennial culture celebrated the quirky, whimsical, slightly ditsy heroine, – awkward but endearing, soft but self-aware. Jessica Day from New Girl stands as a quintessential example. With her stripy tights, wide-eyed optimism, and light-hearted eccentricity, she embodied a kind of femininity that felt playful rather than powerful.
As an elder Gen Z woman, that was the version of adulthood many of us imagined for ourselves. Our twenties would be filled with charm, spontaneity, and a touch of “away with the fairies” whimsy. Yet somewhere along the way, that softness began to be reframed, not as charming, but as weak. Not as imaginative, but as immature. Light-heartedness became conflated with a lack of ambition or assertiveness.
In the current climate, loudness often equates to authority. The more dominant the presence, the more legitimate the power appears. Soft features, whether that be a gentle voice, wide eyes, shorter stature, or simply a quieter disposition, can be perceived as incompatible with the “baddie” aesthetic. They risk being read as naïve or submissive, rather than thoughtful or self-possessed.
But softness does not erase strength. Kindness does not negate conviction. The cliché phrase “mistaking kindness for weakness” feels particularly relevant here. To be agreeable, warm, or gentle should not automatically imply passivity. Nor should speaking up in seminars, setting boundaries in relationships, or advocating for oneself require the adoption of a hardened exterior.
The issue is not the existence of the “bad b*tch” mentality. Assertiveness is not inherently narcissistic. Confidence is not cruelty. The problem arises when one archetype becomes the singular ideal, when trends, whether in consumerism, body types, or personality traits, develop cult-like followings. Young women in particular absorb these models quickly, often feeling pressured to perform strength in a very specific, socially rewarded way.
Strength, however, is not one-dimensional. It is knowing when to speak loudly and when to hold your tongue. It is defending your boundaries without belittling others. It is understanding that self-worth does not require spitefulness, nor does gentleness require submission.
Perhaps the real empowerment lies not in choosing between whimsical softness and unapologetic boldness, but in allowing them to coexist. To be both playful and principled. Both kind and clear. Both soft and self-assured.
To be a “baddie” does not have to mean being rude, narcissistic, or emotionally hardened. And being “away with the fairies” does not have to mean being incapable, immature, or weak. The healthiest version of strength may be one that integrates both-confidence without cruelty, softness without surrender.